Keep Enemies Closer
by ICountCrows
Summary: Harry and the Gang are back for fifth year. This one's got my own crazy theories about what the fifth book will be like, and is H/D SLASH INCLUSIVE. Also with Voldemort, Quidditch, and all that jazz. Switches from Harry/Draco POV. R/R Please.
1. Masquerades

**Title:** Keep Enemies Closer  
**Author:** ICountCrows  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters, setting, or much of the basis for the plot of this story. That is all property of J. K. Rowling, Scholastic Press, and Arthur A. Levine Books.  
**Summary:** A POV story in which Harry and the gang return to Hogwarts for their fifth year. Harry is extremely vigilant this year because he feels responsible for Cedric Diggory's death, and Draco has gone through a transformation as well...  
**Warning:** Will contain detailed SLASH between Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy and Draco Malfoy/Others in later chapters.  
**Other Forseeable PG/PG-13 Pairings:** Remus Lupin/Sirius Black, Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger  
**Chapter:** Uno - Masquerades  
**Chapter Warnings:** None 

_Harry_

I tapped my foot nervously on the red carpet of the train compartment floor. Ron and Hermione were loudly enjoying their annual feast of magical chocolates and candy, provided by none other than yours truly, but I couldn't bring myself to sample anything, not even my favorite, Chocolate Cherry Swirl Color-Changing Wands. My stomach was churning with nervousness and I couldn't focus my mind on anything, especially conversation about the past summer. After all, I had spent the better part of mine locked in my room after engaging in a fistfight with my cousin Dudley and emerging as victor. 

I shifted in my seat and continued to stare out the window. I didn't understand what was wrong with me. I'm never nervous, not even when I fight with Voldemort. Terrified, always, but not nervous. I sighed loudly, completely oblivious to the two pair of eyes that shifted worriedly to rest on me. 

This year was going to be different - I was sure of it. Normally I enjoy going back to school. It's exciting; I'm happy; I'm getting away from my blasted Muggles. (Over the summer I had made the decision to no longer refer to Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and dearest Dudley as my family; my family was the wizarding world now. Those were the people who loved me.) But this year, I was not excited, nor was I cheerful. I was nervous. I was serious. I was...responsible. I was responsible for a boy's death, and because of that, things would never be the same. 

"Harry," a soft voice said. 

I looked over to find Hermione's brown eyes quivering with concern. Her small hand lightly came to rest on my knee and she continued, "Harry, you're not yourself. Talk to us." 

My mouth opened but it was too dry to form words. My friends - Gods, how I loved my friends. Cedric Diggory and I hadn't even been close, but he had been with me at the wrong time, and now he was dead. If anything were to happen to either of the two caring people in front of me, I would never be able to forgive myself. 

"I - I think I'm going to be sick," I stammered, getting up quickly. 

I left the compartment in a hurry, not knowing what else to do. True, my stomach was giving me hell, but I didn't really feel like I was going to vomit. I just couldn't make myself stay in that compartment any longer, looking into their innocent, trusting eyes and knowing that every second they were with me, they were in danger. 

Breathing deeply, I tried to clear my head. I had been planning this day and the entire school year for nearly the entire summer. I knew what I had to do next. 

My stomach flipped again. 

I had to find Draco Malfoy. 

_Draco_

I laughed my cold laugh half-heartedly and turned to look out the window again. Crabbe and Goyle were busy entertaining each other and hoping that I would notice and approve, but my masquerade was exhausting me. 

I was worried beyond comprehension, but no one could know. Stress doesn't get to Malfoys. It just doesn't happen. If a person of my family were to visibly show any sign of anxiety, it would instantly tip everyone off that something was not only not right, but that it was terribly wrong. 

And I couldn't let anyone find out. It would ruin not only my family name, but my family as well. Not that there was much to salvage, but for my mother's sake (and my own as well), I needed to keep it together - everything - even if that did include my bastard of a father. 

I sighed and loosened my tie with my wand, too lazy to bother physically with the knot. Soon, I would be at school; soon, I would be in the warzone. In all honesty, I wasn't really sure what to expect. If Potter struck, I would have no warning, and even if I did, there would be nothing for me to do but sit back and watch my life destroyed. A bead of sweat formed on my forehead as I thought of what would happen to me if that were to occur. 

"Kill him," my father had said. 

Codswallop. I could no more kill a person than Daddy Dearest could have a dinner party with the Grangers, Muggles that they are. And I certainly couldn't kill Harry Potter. Hell, the Dark Lord couldn't even kill Harry Potter. And did my father want the whole family to become cold-blooded murderers on the run from the Ministry? No, I have too much of my mother in me for that. 

I got up quickly. 

"Where are you going, Draco?" a gruff voice inquired from behind me. 

"Just need some air," I replied boredly. 

I heard the two squibs scrambling to their feet and I whirled on them. "I do _not_ need an escort, thank you," I spat. They looked astonished. I sighed. "Just...stay here and..." I flicked my wand inconspicuously and a large purple stain appeared on Squib Number Two's pants. "Try to get that stain out of Goyle's pants." 

I turned back around too early; I missed the all-too-familiar-but-still-amusing confused looks on their fat faces. But it wasn't a big deal. I just needed _out_ of that compartment. 

I regretted my escape as soon as I closed the compartment door. 

"Malfoy." 

The unhappy voice came from my left. My eyes grew wide for just a split second before I managed to resume my usual look of confident arrogance. I turned slowly then, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing he had startled me. 

"Potter," I responded coolly. 

Potter. Just the one person I was trying to avoid. 

********** * ********** 

Well, there's Chapter One for you. Chapters Two through Five have already been finished, but I'll be releasing them individually over periods of time, just because. =) If you're ready for Chapter Two, here are some things to think about:  
- What does Harry need to talk to Draco about?  
- Why is Draco so worried?  
- And why does Lucius want Harry dead?


	2. An Emerald Agreement

**Title:** Keep Enemies Closer  
**Author:** ICountCrows  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters, setting, or much of the basis for the plot of this story. That is all property of J. K. Rowling, Scholastic Press, and Arthur A. Levine Books.  
**Summary:** A POV story in which Harry and the gang return to Hogwarts for their fifth year. Harry is extremely vigilant this year because he feels responsible for Cedric Diggory's death, and Draco has gone through a transformation as well...  
**Chapter:** Due - An Emerald Agreement  
**Chapter Warnings:** None 

_Harry_

'Now, or never,' I told myself. 'You have to do this.' 

"Malfoy, I have some things to say to you," I said as sternly as my voice would allow. It was almost frightening how much I sounded like my Uncle Vernon...If I had been paying closer attention to my nemesis, I would have seen him falter slightly, but I was much too preoccupied with my own forced confidence. 

I took a deep breath. "I know you hate me, Malfoy. And I've hated you back for as long as I can remember." I stopped. Was I really doing this? "But it's all so stupid and petty," I continued. "It's...For Merlin's sake, Malfoy, it's _childish_." 

Was this really happening? No, I couldn't be saying these things to a Death Eater's son! "We were first years," I babbled on nervously. "Ron was my only friend, and you insulted him. I had no choice! It was my duty to hate you." My stomach was killing me and alarms were going off in my head, trying to alert the idiot speaking in my mouth that this could all end dreadfully. 

"Things are different, now, Malfoy. Things are more serious now." My next carefully planned statement caught in my throat. "Cedric Diggory - he's dead. I..." I gulped, fighting back the memories from the past year, from the nightmares that plagued me all through the summer. "I can't have trivial things like this hanging over my head, too." 

Finally, I raised my head. The look on Draco Malfoy's face was one so unfamiliar to me that I almost forgot what the issue at hand was; I almost stared. There was confusion there, and skepticism. There was something _different _about it, though - just _different_. A moment of inspection and I realized with a start what it was. The malice was gone from his eyes. The deep pools of grey looked almost...exposed? The cold hatred that had clothed them since the first time I met him was gone, leaving them naked. 

One of his aristocratic, perfectly plucked eyebrows arched high above the other. He did not speak. He did not look as if he could. 

Slowly and deliberately, I delivered my last line. 

"I want to make peace." 

_Draco_

My heart had been trying to beat out of my chest throughout Potter's entire monologue. As soon as he had said he wanted to talk, I had been convinced it was all over. With those words, I had seen my father taken away, my mother losing control, and me, left all alone with only one vile option for survival: becoming a Death Eater. 

But peace with Potter? Had he gone stark-raving mad? He couldn't mean it. He was The Boy Who Lived, the natural-born enemy of the Dark Lord, and he found out my father was a Death Eater before I did. No, it just didn't make any sense. He had to have some ulterior motive... 

I almost laughed out loud at my own ridiculous thought. The Golden Boy? With an ulterior motive? I knew at once it wasn't possible. Potter wasn't capable of such a thing. He didn't grow up having to lie and inflict and endure pain to survive. No, Harry Potter was too much of a saint to have an ulterior motive. He was too honest, too brave and loyal...He was too Gryffindor to lie. 

So I was left with a choice. Refuse his friendship and be like my bastard of a father, or accept, and maybe write my own death sentence. Still, being on Harry Potter's good side could have its benefits. I might be able to convince him to spare my family, for one... 

"My father," I began quietly, not thinking. 

"First off," Harry interrupted, "I am not offering peace with your father." His voice was at first irritable. Then, softer, he added, "And secondly, you probably shouldn't talk about it here." 

I felt my face threaten to flush, but managed to keep it under control. He was right. I had been foolish to speak so freely of something that could so easily destroy my life. But it was so hard to believe... 

It didn't matter. I had no time to think. The choice was now; the decision was now. The time was now. 

I stuck out my hand and immediately remembered the first day I met him, when all I wanted was for The Boy Who Lived to be my friend. All I had wanted that day was for Harry Potter to like me. 

And as I stood there, staring at my outstretched hand and praying to the gods that he would take it, I realized that nothing had changed. 

His strong, tanned hand grasped my pale, effeminate one, and I swore I could feel his power and determination, his pure unadulterated strength, living in his handshake. I felt as though holding Excalibder itself would not have given me a bigger rush of the power I had always been trained to crave. I raised my stunned eyes to his and there was an agreement there, set in the precious stone of emerald, that I could only hope I confirmed in dull granite. 

The Golden Boy took his hand back in due time and turned to go, but I knew I couldn't let it end yet. There were still some questions left unanswered. 

"Potter," I called. He turned to face me. "Harry." His name came out easier than I had expected. "Can you get out after the feast tonight? Without anyone seeing you?" 

He nodded slowly and brushed a piece of satiny black hair from his face. 

"Meet me at the quidditch pitch, then." 

Harry nodded again, and that was it. He was gone. 

But I still had some things to say. 

********** * ********** 

There's two for you. You like? Yes? No? R/R, please! And flame me, please! I don't give a damn! Anyways, here are some teasers for chapter three.  
- Why would Draco lose his composure like that in front of Harry?  
- Will they be friends for real, or is Draco just trying to clear his family name?  
- And most importantly, just what will those lovely young men be doing at the quidditch pitch later? *waggles eyebrows*


	3. The Same Things Are Different

**Title:** Keep Enemies Closer  
**Author:** ICountCrows  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters, setting, or much of the basis for the plot of this story. That is all property of J. K. Rowling, Scholastic Press, and Arthur A. Levine Books.  
**Summary:** A POV story in which Harry and the gang return to Hogwarts for their fifth year. Harry is extremely vigilant this year because he feels responsible for Cedric Diggory's death, and Draco has gone through a transformation as well...  
**Chapter:** Tre - The Same Things Are Different  
**Chapter Warnings:** None 

_Harry_

There were only six first-years sorted into Gryffindor before the feast, most of whom took it upon themselves to stare at me exceptionally longer than the first-years of the past. I decided that while I was in the Muggle world over the summer, my fame must have grown (if that was even possible) due to the previous year's catastrophe. Nevertheless, I clapped politely with the rest of my table as each of our new recruits came to sit down. 

The first was a terrified-looking little blond with glasses and chubby cheeks by the name of Jennifer Christiansen. 

"She's a Muggle, that one," Ron commented lightly as she approached the Sorting Hat. "Can tell by her name." 

"Ron!" Hermione scolded, punching him in the shoulder. "Don't be so judgmental!" 

Ron looked quite taken aback by Hermione's attempt at violence. "I didn't mean it as a bad thing!" 

The hat yelled, "Gryffindor!" and Hermione immediately turned her back to Ron and made a place for Jennifer on her other side. 

We all smiled warmly at our newest house member before Ron continued with his pleading. "Come on, Hermione! I was just making conversation!" 

The next two first-years went to Ravenclaw, then one to Slytherin, then a thin, but cocky-looking boy with dark hair named Cassius Drone came to sit at our table. Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw seemed to split a large group after that, then two more Slytherins, and Seamus Finnigan's little sister Erin came to sit at our table. I lost count between then and our next two first years, who came back to back. The first was a boy with glasses and robes much too big for him. His name was Arnold McGovern and he reminded me a lot of myself during the days when I was still wearing Dudley's hand-me-downs. The next was a tiny little dark-haired girl with eyes as blue as mine are green. Her name was Lenora Stupra and boys all the way up through the third year were scrambling to make room for her within their circles of friends. 

"Veela blood," Hermione whispered. 

Ron's mouth dropped open. "You mean to tell me that you can say a person's got Veela blood but if I even mention Mug-" 

"Ron, I don't even want to argue about it." Hermione had spoken. 

The next and last proclaimed Gryffindor was the Weasleys' only cousin, a plump little redhead with squinty eyes named Sterling. 

After the sorting came Dumbledore's announcements. All of them were the same as usual - don't go here, new DADA teacher, painful death, blah blah blah. However, I did pay attention when Hermione and Seamus were announced as the new Gryffindor Prefects. 

"Congratulations, Hermione!" Ron beamed. 

"Yeah, why didn't you tell us?" I added. 

"Thanks," she answered Ron. Then teasingly, "Well, you unobservant _boys_, I've been wearing the badge since we got to the station." She smiled to show us she was only playing and that she forgave us (she always did), then tacked on, "I don't know how I'm going to fit Prefect Meetings in with my homework schedule, though." 

Ron rolled his eyes. "I'm sure you'll manage, Hermione. You always do." At this, he interrupted himself by selecting a particularly large drumstick from the plate that magically appeared before us and taking a bite. Still chewing, he mused, "I really would've thought they'd have elected you, too, Harry." 

I shrugged and loaded my plate with food, avoiding his eyes and trying not to answer him. Truthfully, I had been elected, but as soon as Dumbledore sent word of it (with a badge), I had replied that I wouldn't feel safe in such a prominent position and thought that it might endanger the house. He sent me another owl a week later stating that he admired and regretted but would respect my decision. 

"Well," Ron continued, apparently unconcerned with my lack of response, "at least you won't have to go to meetings with Malfoy." 

_Draco_

I shook my head warily as Dumbledore announced the new Prefects. Gryffindor had elected _two_ Mudbloods for me to deal with? How like them. I didn't bother listening to the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw announcements. Hufflepuff House was always laughable and Ravenclaw extremely boring. I didn't want to waste my time. 

Crabbe and Goyle each slapped me on the back in congratulations when my name was announced, and I sighed in frustration. No doubt my perfectly creamy white skin would be marred with bruises in the morning, and not from anything good. 

My life got even better when I looked up to find Pansy smirking at me from across the table. "Congratulations, Draco." She tried to smile, but the attempt only resulted in a very unbecoming twist in her mouth. At first I thought maybe she just needed some practice, but then realized I never really wanted to see her smiling anyway. It just didn't fit her. "I guess we'll be seeing a lot of each other this year." 

I raised my eyebrows. Pansy? Pansy was the female Slytherin Prefect? Who in Merlin's back acre would elect her? 

"Oh, joy rapture," I drawled, oozing as much sarcasm I could bring myself to waste on her. 

She giggled and went back to her frightfully small group of friends. I sighed. I couldn't figure out why she couldn't understand - why she wouldn't leave me alone. 'Maybe she just enjoys the pain of rejection,' I thought, but dismissed the idea almost immediately. Pansy inflicts too much pain upon me to be a masochist. I finally settled on the fact that she was a sadist instead. That would explain the pleasure she got from torturing me with her presence. 

I made a mental note to avoid the house common room at all costs this year. During our fourth year at Hogwarts, she had taken to camping out there and waiting for me. She was there in the mornings when I woke up; she followed me between classes and waited for me while I stayed in the dormitory; she stayed there sometimes until the crack of dawn, waiting for me to return from a sneak around the castle. Her stalking habits were really getting quite scary. 

The food at the feast was wonderful, as always, and everything _looked_ the same, but there was some sinister feeling at the table I had never noticed before. Perhaps it was because it was a new presence, but more than likely, it was just that I was only now opening my eyes to the truth of my house. 

The summer had changed me. 

********** * ********** 

So, Harry's settling in and Draco's feeling quite _un_settled. I know the plot hasn't thickened yet, but I promise, it will soon. I've written through Chapter 7 now and I have the entire story planned out in my head except for a few details and the ending. Now for more teasers...  
- So how will Harry sneak away after the feast?  
- What will go down at the quidditch pitch?  
- And how, exactly, does Draco feel that the summer changed him?


	4. Draco's Flashback

**Title:** Keep Enemies Closer  
**Author:** ICountCrows  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters, setting, or much of the basis for the plot of this story. That is all property of J. K. Rowling, Scholastic Press, and Arthur A. Levine Books.  
**Summary:** A POV story in which Harry and the gang return to Hogwarts for their fifth year. Harry is extremely vigilant this year because he feels responsible for Cedric Diggory's death, and Draco has gone through a transformation as well...  
**Chapter: **Quattro - Draco's Flashback  
**Chapter Warnings: **Violence, Language  
**Author's Note:** Thanks to all of you who have reviewed so far (o0opyralishao0o, Penguingirl, Queen of Curses, Firebolt2001, Rebbie, loveroflegolas, SexySlytherinChic, and kandra). I'm sorry if this story has been a bit confusing, but this next chapter should help clear things up a bit, and the following chapters should help as well. Keep reviewing! It makes the author happy, and a happy author is a busy author! 

_I slammed the door behind me in my normal fashion of announcing that I was home from school. Dropping my bags at the door for the house-elves, I sauntered down the main hall toward the parlor, expecting to hear my mother's welcoming voice at any moment. When it didn't come, I frowned, but continued on my path, figuring she was in the bathroom or otherwise indisposed. _

The parlor was empty when I arrived. Now, I was scowling. 

I pulled my wand irritably from my robes. "Amplifica_," I commanded, pointing it at my throat. _

"Mother, I'm home. Where are you?" I paused as my voice echoed throughout the many rooms in the manor. 

The reply I received shook my insides. 

"Boy!" my father's voice boomed, sounding godlike and commanding in comparison with my weak and boyish one. "Are you not forbidden to use magic outside of Hogwarts?" His anger was earth shattering and I shivered at its potency. 

I had not expected this. My father was never home when I came back from school, and my use of magic had never bothered him. He had always encouraged it before. 

"Get up here," he barked. 

I knew exactly where to find him. He was in his library, as always. I climbed the long staircase with dread, but dared no dawdle. I knew it would only be worse if he had to wait. 

The door was open when I reached it and my father was pacing fitfully in front of his desk. A half-empty bottle of Wizard's Whiskey sat glaring at me from one corner of the large mahogany antique, and a pair of well-worn leather gloves mocked me from the other. 

Oh, how I loathed him. 

"Now, just what in the name of Malfoy do you think you're doing?" he roared. "Are you trying to attract the Ministry's attention?" 

He snatched the pair of gloves from the desk and stalked angrily in my direction, reaching my frozen young for in only a few long strides. His left hand grabbed my shoulder roughly while his right, the one holding the gloves, reached across his chest, preparing to backhand me. 

I stared straight ahead, knowing that if he knew I feared him, it would only satisfy him, and if I flinched, the pain would only be worse. 

"Lucius, please!" My mother's pained voice came from the doorway and I knew she would pay for her interruption. 

My father glared at her, then at me, and finally, still glaring, released my shoulder from his grip. His attention was now focused on my mother. 

I turned to face her with hopeless apology. It always seemed as if she was willing to die for me, and then I had to standby and watch like the coward that I am as my father slowly killed her. Her appearance this day was no less than shocking. The entire left side of her face was swollen black and blue and her bottom lip was split. I had never seen her beaten so badly. 

Pathetically, I watched as my father threw her to the hallway floor. "When will you learn, bitch?" he growled, kicking her in the stomach. With that, he left her, returning to me and locking the door behind him. 

My mother's attempt to protect me had only made him angrier, but I knew it was right that he should take it out on me. 'I should have protected her,' I told myself miserably as my back thudded against the wall. 'I should have stopped him.' 

He landed blow after blow to my stomach and I could no longer think of anything except the pain. My eyes blurred with dizziness and tears and I merely wanted it to be over. 

But then, as he went in for the kill, he rolled up his sleeve. One eye focused slowly, and it came into view. 

My head slammed against the wall and I slid to the floor, reaching the depths of all unconsciousness with the knowledge that my father carried the Dark Mark. 

********** * ********** 

Two Weeks Later 

Lyrics taken from  
Artist: Linkin Park  
Album: Hybrid Theory  
Track: Four - _Points of Authority_

_"...You love the way  
I look at you  
While taking pleasure in the awful things you put me through  
You take away  
If I give in  
My life - my pride - is broken _

You like to think you're never wrong  
(You live what you've learned)  
You have to act like you're someone  
(You live what you've learned)  
You want someone to hurt like you  
(You live what you've learned)  
You want to share what you've been through  
(You live what you've learned) 

You love the things  
I say I'll do  
The way I hurt myself again just to get back at you  
You take away  
When I give in  
My life - my pride - is broken..." 

"Boy!" My father's voice barely rang out over the music in my headphones, but I wasted no time turning it off. 

I scrambled madly to hide my Muggle electronics before my father came in. 

"Boy," he called again, pounding mercilessly on my door. "What the hell are you doing in there anyway?" 

I opened the door quickly. "Sorry, Father. I was studying my Italian." Father always wanted me studying my Italian. It was the language he chose to buy all his illegal books in - the books no longer printed in English or Latin. 

He smiled his strange, sneering smile and motioned for me to follow him. "Come, Draco. Your uncles and I would like to have a word with you." 

I nearly groaned aloud. My mother's brother and brother-in-law, my only and most hated uncles, had decided yet again to plague me with their presences. As if it weren't bad enough that I had to deal with their sons all year! 

Not many people at Hogwarts knew that Crabbe and Goyle were my cousins. Actually, it was a fact I tried to keep as private as possible. 

"Draco," my uncles grunted simultaneously as I entered the parlor. 

"Good evening," I replied, trying to maintain some degree of politeness for my own sake. 

Truth be told, I hated my uncles. The two of them were the ones who forced my mother to marry my father, and all for a connection with the bloody Malfoy name and money. The two of them personally manufactured my miserable existence, and I held a grudge. 

"Son," my father began, taking a seat in one of our most uncomfortable chairs and motioning for me to do the same. "We have some things to talk about." 

I chose a slightly softer chair and prepared myself for whatever lousy thing it was these people wanted from me. 

"I will not waste time trying to explain my past decisions to you, nor will I tolerate any judgment of myself on your part. You will listen to what I have to say, and you will do as I command. And, Draco," Father said pointedly, "you will never speak of this conversation to anyone outside of this room." 

His eyes bored into mine and I found myself nodding. I felt the cold hard mask slipping into place over my fear and knew that everything would be all right if I just followed his orders. 

"Good." His grey eyes were icier than mine could ever be. "Draco, everyone in this room is a Death Eater. I am. Your uncles are. And you, too, will one day serve your Dark Master." He tapped his fingers on the armrest of his overstuffed chair. "Someday sooner than you think... 

"Your uncles convinced me tonight that you may be of use to me when you return to school. Yes, Draco, you may be able to help me with a certain...project." He offered me a pointed glare. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? Don't you want to make your father proud?" 

My mask nodded again as the face it covered withered from disbelief to absolute dread. I felt as if I could be sick at any moment. 

"But before you can go about your task, there is some information I must divulge to you - information that no other person, Draco, is to stumble upon." He paused waiting for me to acknowledge his last statement, but I was too numb to move. "Hai capito?" 

I forced my stony expression to nod my understanding and wished harder than I'd ever wished for anything that he wouldn't give me this "information". 

"I killed Cedric Diggory." 

My mask fell off. My jaw dropped open. I stared in disbelief. My father was a murderer? 

"Yes, son. I killed him. And I need to know if everyone's favorite little hero knows about it." 

I was too stunned to speak. After a moment of allowing the information to settle, I finally whispered, "Why?" 

Father laughed. "Why? Why else? My Dark Lord commanded it." He tapped his chair yet again, and when I did nothing but stare at him, he continued. "If you must know, I was the first to arrive when he summoned the Death Eaters with the Dark Mark, outside of Wormtail that is." He told his story as if I was supposed to understand everything. "He told me that if anything went wrong, that is, if anyone else came through the portkey, I was to kill him. He knew Wormtail wouldn't be able to carry out a task of such...magnitude. My master presented me with his wand, and when Harry Potter arrived, he did have someone with him." He sighed now, almost as if this part of the story held some burden that he did not want to shoulder. "Potter collapsed, and I killed Diggory. I don't know if he saw me..." 

Coming back from his tale, Father leaned forward in his uncomfortable chair. 

"Draco, I need you to find out if Harry Potter is going to tell." 

********** * ********** 

Well, what do you think of Lucius? Isn't he ridiculously sinister? But now you have a little insight into Draco...R/R if you feel like it, and here's some brainfood for Chapter Five.  
- Will Draco turn on Harry when they meet at the quidditch pitch?  
- Will he spill the beans to Harry about why he's really there?  
- And most importantly, will he bring the squibs to their meeting?


	5. Can You Trust the Honesty?

**Title:** Keep Enemies Closer  
**Author:** ICountCrows  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters, setting, or much of the basis for the plot of this story. That is all property of J. K. Rowling, Scholastic Press, and Arthur A. Levine Books.  
**Summary:** A POV story in which Harry and the gang return to Hogwarts for their fifth year. Harry is extremely vigilant this year because he feels responsible for Cedric Diggory's death, and Draco has gone through a transformation as well...  
**Chapter:** Cinque - Can You Trust the Honesty?  
**Chapter Warnings:** None 

_Harry_

The invisibility cloak felt strange and empty when I used it by myself. It was heavier on my shoulders, too, without Ron's usual help holding it up. 

But I knew I couldn't bring them with me. They would never trust Malfoy, and Malfoy would never put up with them being around. And besides that, I didn't trust him enough yet to expose my friends to him. Nervously, I felt for the security of my wand, which I had stuffed in the front waist of my pants. Although our meeting was supposed to be a peaceful one, I couldn't bring myself to face my nemesis, the son of a Death Eater, unarmed. 

During the long walk to the quidditch pitch, I found myself wondering what on Earth Draco Malfoy could possibly want from me. We had only agreed on being civil to each other a few hours earlier, so what could he possibly have to say to me? I knew he wasn't going to ask me for help with his DADA homework. 

I began envisioning our meeting... _I arrive at the quidditch pitch. Malfoy is already there. "Hi," I say uneasily. He sneers at me and smirks. "Potter," he responds, then laughs coldly. Crabbe and Goyle emerge from the darkness, guffawing stupidly, and I know it's all over. I reach for my wand, but I am too late. Malfoy places my arms and legs in a binding spell and the three of them lug me away to Voldemort...To my death._

I shook my thoughts away as I realized I had made it to the quidditch pitch without incident. A deep, shaky breath, and I started toward the center of the field where I could see the silvery reflection of the moonlight on Malfoy's hair. I shed my invisibility cloak as I walked and draped it over my arm. I didn't want Malfoy finding out about _that_ little secret. 

When I came upon him, Malfoy was lying on his back, resting his head on his hands, staring at the stars. 

"Hello, Harry," he greeted confidently, not bothering to interrupt his gazing. 

"Draco." I shifted my arms so the invisibility cloak dangled in front of my wand. I was uncomfortable standing there out in the open. It was such a vulnerable position... 

"You didn't tell anyone we were meeting, did you?" 

"No," I replied. "That would _not_ have been easy to explain to my friends." Even as I spoke, I was beginning to wish I _had_ told somebody that I was going to be with Malfoy, just in case I never made it back. 

"Likewise," he smirked. Finally, he rolled onto his side and looked up at me, propping himself up on his elbow. "We need to talk, Potter..." He blinked. "Harry." 

"What about?" I asked gruffly, keeping my answers to a minimum. 

Malfoy sighed exasperatedly and sat up. "Are you going to sit down? Because you're making me nervous standing there like that." 

I glanced around, not wanting to do any such thing, but not seeing how I could refuse. 

"I won't bite, Harry." 

I sat haltingly, being extremely careful not to break my wand but trying to be inconspicuous about it as well. Eventually, I ended up with one leg stretched out straight in front of me and one leg up. I leaned back on my hands, hoping I looked nonchalant. 

If Malfoy noticed anything suspicious, he didn't show it. Instead he stared off at something far away in the direction of the castle. I figured it was something only he could see, something convenient enough for him not to look at me. 

Traitors never look you in the eye. 

"So it's agreed, then," he blurted randomly, turning to face me. "This...peace...This stays between us?" 

"Agreed," I nodded after a moment, almost relieved that I wouldn't have to explain my newfound "trust" in the enemy to Ron and Hermione. 

"You're mental!" I could hear Ron saying. 

"Good," Draco breathed. He seemed as relieved as I was. "There are...Death Eaters in my house," he stated simply. "People who want you dead, Harry. And if we suddenly became friends..." The last part of his statement hung silently in the air, like a bullet afraid to hit its target. We both knew that he meant they would want him dead, too. 

I began to wonder if he had asked me to meet him so he could tell me who they were. I had seen many of them during my last encounter with Voldemort, but I was sure that more had joined over the summer. 

"If my father found out that we were speaking..." He trailed off again, then looked up at me, and I almost thought I saw pleading in his eyes. "You're not going to turn him in, are you?" 

_Draco_

I waited with bated breath. The answer to this question would define our futures. I knew that if he said yes, he would die, and it would be my fault. No, I wouldn't kill him, but as soon as I sent word to my father, someone would. 

I didn't want a death hanging over my head. I didn't want it to be my fault. But I had _never_ stood up to my father, and if I lied, he would surely find out. 

'But it's not just standing up to your father, Draco!' the coward inside me wailed. 'You'd be defying the Dark Lord! No one does that!' 

'Harry Potter does,' came the sneering reply. 

"What do you mean?" Harry's voice interrupted my panicked thoughts. "I named all the Death Eaters I saw last year before the summer holidays." 

Death Eaters, oh yes, but murderers, Harry! Did you name any murderers? 

"The Ministry have known for years that your father was a Death Eater. Snape named him almost fifteen years ago when Voldemort first fell from power." 

Snape? Snape knew my father was a Death Eater? 

Harry must have seen the confusion on my face. "Snape was a Death Eater, too, but he didn't go back last year when the Dark Mark called." He paused, frowning. "If the Ministry haven't gone after your father yet, then I doubt they'll do it any time soon. Cornelius Fudge didn't even believe that Voldemort had returned." 

Oh, Merlin! Harry didn't know! They wouldn't have to kill him because he didn't know! 

"Listen, Draco, I've got to be getting back. My house worries about me." He got up, grinning. "Haven't figured out I can take care of myself yet, I guess." 

He turned to leave, but as he walked away I called him back. "Harry!" I found myself blurting. "Harry...I didn't know he was a Death Eater. I didn't know until this summer. I saw the Dark Mark on his arm. I-" I swallowed. "I promise you, I didn't know." 

The Boy Who Lived stood motionless for a moment and we stared at each other. Then, an eternity later, he nodded, and turned back toward the castle, continuing on his way. 

As I lay there on the ground, staring up at the stars, I felt like the proverbial "Boy Who Cried Wolf". Harry Potter had absolutely no reason to trust me, and I knew that he didn't yet, but I told myself I had to keep being honest with him. I had to gain his trust, because I knew I was going to need his help. I was going to need him when I refused to join my father. 

I was going to need him when the Dark Lord Harry so boldly called Voldemort wanted me dead. 

********** * ********** 

Well, what do you think of that! Could Draco Malfoy be turning over a new leaf? Unbelievable, isn't it! Some things to munch on for Chapter Six...  
- Will Harry ever trust Draco enough to help him?  
- And who are the Death Eaters in Slytherin House?  
- Most importantly, what would happen if Lucius Malfoy got word of this conversation? 


	6. A Few Charming Charms

**Title:** Keep Enemies Closer  
**Author:** ICountCrows  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters, setting, or much of the basis for the plot of this story. That is all property of J. K. Rowling, Scholastic Press, and Arthur A. Levine Books.  
**Summary:** A POV story in which Harry and the gang return to Hogwarts for their fifth year. Harry is extremely vigilant this year because he feels responsible for Cedric Diggory's death, and Draco has gone through a transformation as well...  
**Chapter:** Sei - A Few Charming Charms  
**Chapter Warnings:** None  
**Author's Note: **This chapter doesn't have a lot of plot development, but it does have some Draco character development and a slew of nifty charms. Maybe a few new characters will enter as well, like a big black dog...? I had fun writing this; I hope you have fun reading it.  
**Thanks:** All reviewers - Anne Pheonix, Prophetess of Hearts, Rambling B*tch and Rae Rae 

_Harry_

"Professor Lupin!" I cried, entering the DADA classroom for the first time this year. "I knew you'd come back!" 

Behind me, Hermione and Ron entered with similarly excited explanations. 

My day had done nothing but get better as it progressed. First, upon receiving my schedule, I had learned that I didn't have to suffer through Professor Snape's Potions class until Tuesday. Then, in Transfiguration, Professor McGonagall completely humiliated Malfoy's little stooges, Crabbe and Goyle, by transfiguring their summer essays into two steaming piles of hippogriff manure and telling them both that that was exactly what their work was worth. In Charms, we learned an extremely simple and undetectable silencing spell that I realized would work very well on Ron when I was trying to do my homework. And now this! 

"Well, hello there!" Professor Lupin beamed. "I've been looking forward to seeing the three of you all day! How is everything?" 

"We're fine," I blurted quickly, not wanting to waste precious time talking about us. I was more curious about him. "But how did you get your job back?" 

The professor shrugged and took a seat at his desk. "Apparently, last year when the school petitioned to rehire me, Lucius Malfoy made such a fuss they couldn't do it. But this year, he didn't make a peep." 

He stopped abruptly when the door opened and revealed a rather coy-looking Draco Malfoy. My new non-enemy strode in magnificently, taking his seat on the left side of the room and completely ignoring the two morons behind him. That was surprisingly easy to do today, as they were engaged in what looked to be a fairly fierce word-mouthing contest. 

Lupin stared at the two goons for a moment, then turned to Malfoy. "Did you..." he began, motioning at the ridiculous muted scene. 

Malfoy nodded. 

Lupin blinked and contemplated this for a moment, then said simply, "Why, thank you, Mr. Malfoy." 

I felt Ron shudder behind me, then heard him mutter softly, "I never thought I'd hear _him_ say _that_." 

As the other students began to filter into the room, we took our seats. More cheerful shouts of "Professor Lupin! You're back!" echoed throughout the room until all the Gryffindors were seated. 

The Slytherins sat, unblinking and rigid, on their side of the room, and didn't make a sound. Our reinstated teacher knew not to take that personally, though. The Slytherins sat like that through all their classes. And even if they didn't, I still didn't think Remus Lupin would have given a Boggart. 

"Well, welcome back, all of you, to your fifth year of instruction at Hogwarts. As you all have had me as a teacher before, you all know who and what I am, but just for formality's sake, let's review." He cleared his throat loudly and announced, "My name is Remus Lupin, and I am a werewolf." 

A few sarcastic gasps made their way around the room before order was restored once more. 

"Now, today's lesson will be on freezing spells. For this, I will need two assistants, one of whom I already have." Lupin turned to his left and whistled, at which point an overly large black dog came padding out of his office. 

"Snuf-" 

Hermione and I both instantly flicked our wands in Ron's direction and yawned, inflicting upon him our newly mastered silencing spell. A few people turned our way, but Hermione, always brilliant, covered our arses rather well, once again. 

"Gods bless you, Harry," she said. 

"Thank you, Hermione," I responded casually. 

The black dog sat obediently next to Lupin, wagged its tail, and barked good-naturedly at us. I could have sworn I saw him wink as well. 

"Now," Lupin continued, "I need another assistant." His eyes scanned the volunteerless class. Over the years, we had all pretty much learned never to volunteer in DADA. With professors like Lockhart and Mad-Eye Moody (even if he wasn't the real one), sometimes "lab activities" got a little out of hand. "All right then. Mr. Malfoy, care to show your daring side?" 

Malfoy smirked and crossed his arms stubbornly. "You're crazier than my father says if you think you're getting me up there for one of your crackpot demonstrations." 

"Very well, then," Lupin continued cheerily. He was, as usual, unfazed by Malfoy's snide remarks. I wished I could be like that. Then again, I also wished I could take away their house points on a whim. "Ten points from Slytherin. Mr. Crabbe?" 

Crabbe's mouth hung slightly open and I think he would have been speechless even if he hadn't been bewitched by Draco's silencing charm. Beside him, Goyle sniggered silently, and he turned to Malfoy for instruction. 

"Well, get up there, you bloody fool, before he docks more of our points," was all the silver-haired God of Goons would say. 

Crabbe reluctantly stepped up to the front of the room. 

"Now, stand just there," Lupin said, positioning him about two meters in front of the window. Then, looking at the dog, he commanded, "_Vim inferre_!" 

In the blink of an eye, the humongous canine was leaping at Crabbe, and then he was on top of him. His remarkably large paws rested square in the center of the petrified boy's chest and his sharp teeth were bared within centimeters of Crabbe's astonished face. He was growling. 

"Snuffles, _desiste_," Lupin called calmly, and Snuffles returned to his "owner", wagging his tail and (unfortunately) having caused absolutely no injury to the student. 

The whole class was still in shock, especially Crabbe, who had just barely managed to pick himself up off the floor. His face was pale and his jaw hung loosely, making him look extraordinarily thick, even for one of Malfoy's Morons. 

I shared an amused and astonished look with Ron and Hermione. I had never seen "Snuffles" look so dangerous. 

Crabbe had nowhere near recovered from the first attack when Lupin ordered another, but this time, he shouted, "_Petrificus tempus_!" and the dog froze mid-leap, balancing dangerously on his hind legs. 

Crabbe looked almost as stunned as he had when he was knocked to the floor. 

Professor Lupin turned to his shaken students. "A simple freezing spell," he stated. "It's much like a the stunning spell _Stupefy_, but instead of tranquilizing the recipient, it completely stops time for them." He smiled. "This dog has absolutely no connection with reality right now." 

As we left the classroom at the end of the lesson, Ron leaned over and said quietly, "Good for Sirius. I think he deserved a little 'time off', so to speak." 

********** * ********** 

_Draco_

I ditched the squibs on the way to dinner and told them I'd meet up with them at the table. It wasn't easy; the two of them are so dependent on me it's sickening, but eventually their fear of upsetting me overcame their fear of being alone. 

So I was finally able to make it to the owlrey. I had waited all day, my fingers itching to write my father about Harry's ignorance of his indiscretion, but knowing I couldn't do so in such a crowded place. There was too much of a chance someone could read over my shoulder. I wouldn't have been able to get an owl until now, anyway, and that would have meant walking around all day with a potentially very important letter in my pocket. I suspected that Father would not have been proud of me for that and would have expected me to use much more caution in any further circumstances. 

I spat angrily on the ground among the owl droppings and tried not to give a damn what my father thought of me. But hell, who was I kidding? I was here wasn't I? 'If I were a real man,' I thought furiously, 'I wouldn't send him anything at all. I wouldn't have even asked Harry about it.' But I wasn't a real man. I was Daddy's Little Bitch just the way Daddy was the Dark Lord's. 

I snorted at the similarities between the two of us. I hated him so much, and yet I knew I was so like him. We were both ruthlessly cruel and devious (there was no doubt I _did_ belong in Slytherin), and we shared the ability to control people. It was the name, the money, the family arrogance - a person's environment could really get to him. My whole life he had raised me to believe I was better than everyone, and because he had done it so well, I was able to make others believe it, too. Everyone except for him. I realized then that that was another trait we shared; we each had our demons. He was mine; the Dark Lord was his. We controlled everyone around us, except for the one that controlled us. 

I pushed the thoughts of my father away as I entered the private part of the owlrey, where the students' owls were kept. I passed Harry's Snowy Owl on the way to mine and envied them both for a moment. So beautiful, so white, so pure...So good. 

I sighed and forced myself to move on, realizing with a groan when I reached my own bird, Nuntio, that it was stationed right next to the Weasel's pathetic excuse for a pint-sized post-carrier. The bothersome little thing fluttered about excitedly in its cage, beating its wings like a hummingbird and distracting me the whole time I was trying to formulate my letter. 

Finally, I decided on the short and to-the-point approach. Father didn't need to know that The Golden Boy and I had shaken hands or anything of the sort. I would only tell him what he asked for. 

"Potter doesn't know," I wrote, and that was it. 

I folded the small piece of parchment, tapped it with my wand, said "_Dissimula proscribere_," and gave it to the bird. 

It was done, and I washed my hands of it. I vowed to myself right then that I would never again do any more work in any way connected with the Dark Lord. 

I felt dirty. 

********** * ********** 

Well, what do you think? Draco _is_ working for the Dark Lord, even if he doesn't want to be. I know I'm a big tease, but get used to it. You love me anyway, right? Anyway, speaking of teasing....  
- What are Lupin and Sirius doing back at the school?  
- What was that charm Draco used on his letter?  
- And what will Lucius Malfoy think when he receives it? 


	7. The Last Breath and Secret Meetings

**Title:** Keep Enemies Closer  
**Author:** ICountCrows  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters, setting, or much of the basis for the plot of this story. That is all property of J. K. Rowling, Scholastic Press, and Arthur A. Levine Books.  
**Summary:** A POV story in which Harry and the gang return to Hogwarts for their fifth year. Harry is extremely vigilant this year because he feels responsible for Cedric Diggory's death, and Draco has gone through a transformation as well...  
**Chapter:** Sette - The Last Breath and Secret Meetings  
**Chapter Warnings:** Crude Language and Sexual References, References to Same-Sex Sexual Relations 

_Harry_

We went straight from dinner that night to Professor Lupin's office. 

"Hello there," our eccentric old teacher greeted without looking up from the papers on his desk. "I wasn't expecting you so soon. Just let me finish this letter..." In a few quick motions that resembled i dotting and t crossing, he was finished. He folded the parchment neatly, addressed it, and tied it to the leg of an owl that I hadn't even noticed was waiting for him. The bird took flight and he turned to the three of us in the doorway. 

"Well, come in and take a seat!" he invited. 

We entered the small, cluttered office and placed our behinds in the seats Lupin hastily conjured for us. 

"So," he began, "I suppose you'd like to meet my dog." His eyes twinkled and he whistled. 

From an adjoining room came the black dog, which transformed immediately into one of my greatest friends as soon as he saw us. 

We all grinned at each other. 

"All right, Harry?" Sirius, formerly known as Snuffles, smiled. 

"All right," I replied, feeling much better than all right. Actually, I was feeling much better than I had since my fourth year. Sirius was the closest thing I had to a father, and I always felt safer when he was around. He seemed to know everything. I resisted the urge to hug him and managed to stay planted in my seat with a grin plastered on my face. Maybe this year wouldn't be so bad after all... 

My godfather hoisted himself up onto Lupin's desk and sat contentedly as he greeted Hermione and Ron. 

We engaged in small talk for a while. How was your summer, how is your family, oh, gee, I'm sorry, Harry, etc. Sirius was just talking about the rush he got whenever the freezing spell was performed on him when Dumbledore knocked on the door. 

"Ah, Mr. Potter, I thought I might find you here." His eyes shined in their normal fashion as he entered. "Sirius, Remus, I trust you two have made yourselves comfortable?" He surveyed the shamelessly muddled room. 

Lupin chuckled as his eyes swept over the mess as well. "We have some organizing to do, but I've been too busy with our...ah...other business to do much about it yet." He shrugged and glanced at the man sitting on his desk. "But it's getting there, and yes, I do think we're comfortable." 

I was just in the middle of wondering what Lupin meant by "other business" when Dumbledore spoke again. 

"Have you informed Harry of our project, yet?" 

The three older wizards exchanged knowing looks and I felt Ron and Hermione give me startled expressions as well. I just watched it all, confused and feeling left in the dark. 

"Not yet, Albus," Lupin answered calmly. "I thought I'd leave that up to you." 

Dumbledore's tired eyes turned to me and I knew something huge was coming. All the other people in the room turned to watch us as well, but I was too concerned with the future of our conversation to notice. 

"Harry, the six of us, right now, are taking part in a massive Reformation," the headmaster said bluntly. 

The information hit me like a brick wall and took a moment to sink in. Only Dumbledore could say something of such magnitude with so little consideration. 

"A Reformation?" I asked, bewildered, still processing. "You mean, like a Revolution?" 

Dumbledore nodded. "Of some sort," he replied. "You are aware that the Ministry have refused to acknowledge Voldemort's return. They have ignored my warnings and all the signs that went with them; they have paid no heed to my advice, and now, it is evident to me that in their naivite they will allow themselves to be overthrown by dark magic once again." His voice was tired, like his eyes, and he looked wary and old, but no less strong. "Our school is the center of a movement that could save the wizarding world, but the Ministry refuse to acknowledge us. We are currently working with our own resources - our teachers and their contacts - to build a resistance to dark magic that has come to be called The Last Breath." 

Dumbledore's voice until now had been somewhat muted in my head. My thoughts had been out of focus and diluted by the enormity of the subject. But now, I heard him loud and clear. 

"Harry, _you are The Last Breath_." He stopped, sensitive to the impact he knew this was having on me, and gave me time to digest before going on. "We have been using every resource we could find. Hagrid and Madame Maxine have informed the Giants, who are with us; Professor McGonagall has been in close contact with the AA, the Animagi Association; I have spoken to Mad Eye Moody who has been meeting with the Aurors." He paused. "I have sent Severus Snape back into the hands of Voldemort for espionage, Merlin help us all if he is caught." 

The heaviness of his last statement hung in the air and made it hard to breathe. 

"The letter I just finished writing was to the WWWWF, and I can almost assure you of their help as well," Lupin added. 

"WWWWF?" Ron and Harry said at the same time. 

"The World-Wide Wizarding Werewolves Federation," Hermione answered dazedly. "But why would you write to them, Professor? They were banned years ago." 

Lupin smiled. "The Ministry made our organization illegal, yes. So that's exactly what it continued to be: illegal. There are still plenty of werewolves out there, and most of them are very angry with the Ministry, who managed to turn us into something similar to outlaws as soon as they dissolved the Federation." 

I was staring off into space, not really hearing anything anyone said. 

"Harry," Sirius said, tearing me from my dream state. "We're telling you this so you'll know that there is hope, but also so you realize how serious this is." He jumped down from Lupin's desk and crouched in front of me. "You are the Last Breath, Harry, and you have to know it. You have to see how important _you_ are." 

_Draco_

I lay hopelessly on my bed, staring at the dimly lit walls, attempting not to think. I wanted to go to sleep; that would be one way to escape from myself. 

I rolled to my side and looked at the Dungeon's enchanted window. We were underground, so we didn't have any real windows, but before every school year I managed to enchant part of the wall to resemble what it would look like if we were a few floors up. The sun was very low, almost gone, but its light was still visible. It was too early for sleep, and the squibs were making too much noise losing to each other at exploding snap for me to even attempt it anyway. 

I sighed in frustration. I wished my brain would turn off. I couldn't stop thinking about what a two-faced monster I was. I had already abused my "friendship" with Harry doing dirty work for my father, in turn, doing dirty work for the Dark Lord. And I was actually expecting The Golden Boy to help me later on? Why should he? I had never offered him anything but lies and deceit, and I would probably never have anything useful to offer him in the future, either. I expected Harry Potter to help me, _Draco MalfoyDeath Eater_ for Merlin's sake, just because I didn't want the Dark Lord to kill me? 

My own selfishness astounded me. 

I rolled off the bed and walked to the mirror, assessing my appearance. I magically gelled my hair and switched the color of my shirt from white to black (which both better reflected my mood and accented my hair), then tightened my fading jeans. I needed to go out. 

I stuffed my wand in the front of my black dragonhide belt and grabbed some coins from the stash under my bed. 

"Where are you going, Draco?" 

I stiffened. Wouldn't the squibs _ever_ leave me alone? I sighed and turned to them slowly, trying to control the overwhelming urge to hex them both into last week. With great effort, I managed to steady my voice. "Where do you think, you useless pile of dragon dung? To find Servito." 

The squibs glanced at each other and I waited, almost interested, because they looked like they might actually reply. 

"Draco," Goyle began hesitantly. I found it highly amusing how frightened he was to speak his mind in front of me. "Why don't you just have Pansy suck you off instead? You know she'd do it." 

I suppressed the urge to vomit at the thought of Pansy Parkinson with her nasty, too-puffy lips around my dick. I managed to chuckle instead. I pinched the bridge of my nose and squinted my eyes shut, wondering how I could make this any clearer to Numbnuts and The Brainless Wonder. "Because," I said, speaking very slowly to ensure that they had the ability to understand. "Pansy is an ugly whore, and I am GAY!" I let the silence stand for itself and watched their expressionless faces stare at me. My sexuality was a point I tried not to bring up with them often. Testosterone took up way too much space in their brains for them to understand why it mattered whether or not my pleasure came from a male. "Got it?" 

They nodded in a silent lie and I turned, heading out the door with conviction. I needed to clear my head. 

I needed a blowjob. 

********** * ********** 

Pretty heavy stuff, huh? For Harry anyway. How'd you like the little Draco outburst at the end? Were you expecting that? The next chapter will be number eight...  
- What is Harry going to have to do to be a part of The Last Breath?  
- Will Draco ever join it and go against his father once and for all?  
- And most importantly, will I ever stop teasing you and get to the NC-17 part of this story? 


	8. Insomnia and Unsettling News

**Title:** Keep Enemies Closer  
**Author:** ICountCrows  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters, setting, or much of the basis for the plot of this story. That is all property of J. K. Rowling, Scholastic Press, and Arthur A. Levine Books.  
**Summary: **A POV story in which Harry and the gang return to Hogwarts for their fifth year. Harry is extremely vigilant this year because he feels responsible for Cedric Diggory's death, and Draco has gone through a transformation as well...  
**Chapter:** Otto - Insomnia and Unsettling News  
**Chapter Warnings:** None  
**Thanks:** Reviewers emmy and shelldawn, emmy twice over for her review of my other story, Star-Crossed Lovers 

_Harry_

I lay awake in bed that night and felt as though everything around me were dying. My world was crumbling and I was only fifteen years old. I recalled my bad feelings about this year and told myself I should have heeded them and thrown myself off a cliff instead of returning to Hogwarts. I had only been through the first day and already my predictions were coming true. 

Dumbledore had said I was the "last breath". Well, what if I didn't want to be, damn it? I hadn't asked for this life. I hadn't asked my mother to die for me; I hadn't asked for the one wand that wouldn't work properly against Voldemort's; and I bloody well _never_ asked for _anyone_ to call me their "Last Breath"! 

And yet, there I was, scared shitless because I had all of those things, and I didn't know what to do about it. 

'Gods, life is unfair,' I thought mournfully as I rolled over. I grabbed my wand from my nightstand and waved it flimsily in the air, muttering "_Tempus_." The light flashed 2:38 a.m. and I groaned inwardly. Not only did I have absolutely no input on my own destiny, but I would also be dog tired when I was forced to carry it out. 

I threw my light sheets off and pulled on a pair of pants over my boxers to pad down into the common room in. I grabbed my Transfiguration work from the bookshelf I'd conjured and placed at the foot of my bed with my now empty trunk and yawned on my way out the door. If I couldn't sleep, I might as well try doing something productive. 

I spread my things out on the table and did something very...Hermione. I checked the syllabus. Wednesday's lesson we would be transfiguring construction paper into cranes. I figured I would get a head start and pulled a sheet of paper from my notebook. I pointed my wand at the innocent sheet of stationary and said sadly, "_Charta Gruis_." 

By dawn I was surrounded by at least a hundred oragami cranes and one head of wild cabbage. (At one point I must have said "_chara_" instead of "_charta_".) Some of the little paper birds were twittering mutely under my silencing charm, and others hopping blindly off the table, attempting to fly. 

The sun came up and I threw my wand on the table. I was getting nowhere and I was so tired I didn't feel like I could move. Nevertheless, the fire lit itself at promptly five o'clock and I forced myself to get up. 

I'd slammed the Transfiguration book shut and started back up to my room when I accidentally stepped on one of my cranes. I rolled my eyes and muttered, "_Mundare_," and sent them all into the fire. 

"Last breath my arse," I mumbled dejectedly as I climbed the stairs. "I can't even do a Fifth Year Transfiguration spell." 

I entered our room, which was full of the normal five o'clock in the morning activities: sleeping and snoring. I discarded the pants I had donned only three hours earlier (God, was it just three hours? It felt like forever!) and fell onto my bed, waiting for the alarms to go off and hoping no one had noticed my absence from my bed. I doubted anyone had. They were all sleeping soundly in their beds when I left, they were all sleeping soundly when I returned, and I hadn't noticed any of them in the common room in between. 

I sighed and waited out the minutes. I almost wished for the annoying _tic toc_ of a Muggle clock to help me pass the time. Over the summer, I had grown quite accustomed to my insomnia and found that the lightly intrusive clicking of a Baby Ben could comfort me in the silence. Here, I settled for Neville's strangled snores and Ron's heavy, peaceful breathing in the bed next to mine. The rhythm occupied my mind for long enough that I could stop thinking about Cedric, Voldemort, The Last Breath, and all those bloody paper cranes until the alarms around me went off. 

I yawned for show as Dean and Seamus popped out of their beds disgustingly perky, as always. We all muttered "_Silencio_" to halt the incessant buzzing in the air (well, most of it) and Seamus pointed his wand at Neville's bed to activate a simple charm that essentially pressed a Muggle "snooze" button. 

I smacked Ron uncermenoniously with a pillow and stole his covers in our daily "Wake up, Ron" ritual, then grabbed my things and followed the others down to the showers. 

I was pleased to see as we walked through the common room that at least my cleaning spell had worked and there were no more tell-tale chirping paper cranes on the floor, but my eyelids still sagged and my head pounded with exhaustion. 

It was going to be a long day. 

_Draco_

I awoke refreshed and temporarily stress-free. My romp with Servito had helped me...release my frustrations...until late into the night, and the fact that he didn't charge me put me in an even better mood. I _almost_ felt as if I could take on a little less than half of the world. (I never was too ambitious...) 

I rolled out of bed as soon as the sun came up and did a little early morning hexing. Crabbe was to wake with a collection of pimples on his forehead that spelled his name, and Goyle...well, he was in for a "little" shock when he hit the showers. I grabbed my load of grooming tools and made for the empty bathrooms grinning. I liked getting there before everyone else. The water was hot and there was privacy, something I needed a lot of and didn't get enough of while I was at school. 

I left the bathroom steaming an hour later - hair perfectly gelled, eyebrows perfectly plucked, and robes perfectly magnificent - sneering arrogantly at anyone who crossed my path. I was in an exceptionally good mood. I strutted on my way back to the dorm. 

"Hi, Draco." Pansy pounced on me as soon as I entered the common room, but I was too pleased with my appearance, my lay from the night before, and myself in general to let it bother me. 

"Quit stalking me, Parkinson," I drawled evenly without turning my head. "You're never going to get any." With that I was on my way down the stairs to my dorm room, thudding loudly in a particularly cluky pair of shiny new dragonhide boots. (Even if my father was a perpetual arsehole, he did buy me all the illegal dragonhide I wanted. His son _did_ have to look nice and rich, now, didn't he?) 

I passed the squibs on the way downstairs. Crabbe was angry as all fury, which was only making his disgusting "facial accessories" more noticeable, and Goyle was looking quite pale and...inadequate...if I may assume something like that. 

Another plus to getting up early: I had the bedroom to myself while the squibs were in the shower. I entered the deserted room and reached down into the false bottom of my trunk and pulled out a book I'd managed to swipe from my father's library two summers earlier, _Le Cose che Le Donne Odiano_. It was a light-titled dark arts spellbook containing potions and charms to be used on women who insist on lavishing a man with their unwanted attentions. I had been working from it since fourth year, trying desperately to reduce Pansy's seemingly undeterrable attraction to me. It didn't seem to be working. 

I had just begun reading about a very promising spell that involved not destroying but transferring the woman's attraction to another man when I heard a light scratching noise at my door. 

I opened it to Nuntio, who came soaring in above my head and perched on my desk. He was carrying a letter, which I took rather ungratefully and flopped on my bed to open. The telltale Malfoy crest donned the seal, and I knew it was from my father. 'What could he possibly want?' 

_Potter must die. We'll be in touch._

My eyes passed over the words normally, but my breath caught in my throat as I read it once, then twice, and I exhaled as I read it a third and final time. It felt like my heart dropped into my stomach and every passage to my lungs had been cut off. My fingers clenched shakily around the piece of parchment, then dropped it suddenly as though they had been scalded. 

_Potter must die_ glared up at me from the cold floor where the words had landed, and I felt suddenly sick and dizzy. 

I couldn't understand it. Why did they want him dead? And why were they involving me? 

My stomach lurched and I groaned in anguish. "They" were the Death Eaters, and it was over for me. They were closing in, capturing their prey. They were cutting off all possible escape routes and resistence was not an option. This would not be a request; this would not be negotiable. They would have me work for them whether I wanted to or not. They would have me as a Death Eater with the Dark Mark or without. I was in too deep, and now they wanted Harry dead... 

Harry - my last breath... 

********** * ********** 

Well, there you have it. Harry and Draco aren't really getting off to a wonderful start this school year, are they? How will it continue? You'll have to wait and see. But in the meantime...  
- How will Harry cope with all this new pressure?  
- Will Draco come clean to Harry about the Death Eaters' plan?  
- Or will he crumble, and be a pawn of the Dark Lord? 

Are you guys enjoying this, by the way? I realize we've not gotten any lemons yet, but I'm a plot-first kind of girl. If there's anything I can do to make this more enjoyable, though, let me know. Reviews are great, even those with criticism. Don't be afraid. I don't bite! 


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